


happily hysterical

by annabeehive



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Wedding Meet Cute, emphasis on cute?, hopefully?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26332870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annabeehive/pseuds/annabeehive
Summary: does what it says on the tin. lardo goes to her friend's wedding, meets a guy named shitty, it's cute :)
Relationships: Larissa "Lardo" Duan/Shitty Knight
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77





	happily hysterical

Lardo should have known something was up when she got the text. Jack usually called, and he never invited her to hang out anywhere except his apartment, because he was an absolute senior citizen. So it wasn’t until her Uber pulled up to the address and she walked into a legit fancy restaurant that she knew there was something going on. 

She breezed past the hostess with a tight smile and a too-fast “he’s expecting me” right to the back, and slung her purse around the seat across from Jack. “So who’s the target?”

“What?” Jack looked up from the menu and nodded in greeting. Lardo scanned him as she settled into her seat. He was tapping his fingers on the table and his shoulders were practically vibrating, but it didn’t seem to be in an anxious way.

“I don’t know man, you invite me to this mysterious address promising mysterious news like you’re some kind of Bond villain? I assumed we were putting a hit on somebody or something.” Jack actually laughed, and Lardo started. Usually the most she could hope for from him was a smirk,  _ maybe _ a singular “ha”.

“No, no...nothing like that.” Jack looked down at the table and bit his lip, but his fingers kept on tapping.

“Seriously, what is up with you? Did you win the lottery? Because uh, not to sound greedy or something but I definitely deserve that money more than you-”

“We’re getting married,” Jack blurted. “Bits-uh, Eric and I. We’re getting married.” He put out his hands in a little  _ ta-da _ . 

“No  _ fucking _ way. Bro!” Lardo put her hand up for a high-five, which Jack met enthusiastically with a slap. “Please tell me he asked you because uh. I’ve seen your fashion sense and I do  _ not _ trust you to go ring shopping alone.”

Jack scoffed. “What’s wrong with my fashion sense?” Lardo gestured pointedly to his yellow running shoes under the table, and Jack rolled his eyes. “Besides, you still get to help me pick out rings. It wasn’t really...planned. I came out from my nap and he was filming some recipe for the vlog and I just kind of...asked him?”

“You’re a fucking mess, you know that? You romantic little shit.” Lardo shook her head. “Anyway, so why’d you have to go all fancy to tell me?” She opened her mouth dramatically and put a hand on her chest. “Are you proposing to me too? Because I gotta tell you, as much as I do love Eric’s cooking, I don’t think he swings that way.”

“Shut up. I wanted to ask you,  _ as a friend _ , if you wanted to be my best man? I don’t want a bachelor party or anything so you don’t have to worry about that, but you could help me with the rings and be there for the ceremony and-”

“Bro. Of course.” They looked at each other for a second, smiling. When Jack went to finally open his menu, she put her hand out covering it so he’d look up. “Wait. Are there going to be hockey players at this wedding?”

So now he smirks. “I’m a professional hockey player. Eric and I met on the hockey team at Samwell. I think there’ll be a few.”

Lardo rolled her eyes, and groaned. “Just for the record, when I signed up to be best friends with that awesome dude Jack from my art history class, no one told me it meant being hit on by hockey players for the rest of my life.”

“Well it’s too late. You’re hooked on my infinite charm. Now, can we please order? I was waiting for you for like twenty minutes.” Lardo rolled her eyes, opened up her menu, and started sipping on her water. Jack murmured just loud enough for her to hear, “For the record, you didn’t seem to mind being hit on by hockey players all the time with Snowy at Eric’s birthday party last year.”

Lardo spluttered, and threw her napkin at his face.

* * *

Well, the wedding was beautiful. Obviously. Eric and Jack were so disgustingly in love, and, well, Jack’s NHL salary came in handy for a few things. The band was playing a cover of some pop song from ten years ago, and everyone was dancing, and she hadn’t tripped walking down the aisle, and life was good. Lardo looked around the gigantic room as she stirred her glass of….well, it was just ice now, wasn’t it.

She was staring at her empty glass contemplating whether it was worth it to get up and go to the bar when some guy with what she could only describe as a porn stache plopped down in the chair next to her, breathing just a little bit too hard. “Fuckin’ beaut of a wedding, huh.” 

The guy grabbed a random glass of water off the table and started chugging. His hair was growing out just enough to flop over his face a little, and Lardo’s hands twitched for a pair of scissors. The top button of his dress shirt was undone. She was really trying not to stare too much at the exposed bit of collarbone, but his shirt was fitted well enough to show he was kind of built, and she was a few drinks in, and what the hell.

When he had emptied the glass, he wiped his mouth and turned back to Lardo, smiling loosely. Before he could open his mouth to speak, she held up one of her palms and tried for one of her deadliest looks. “If you’re a member of the NHL, legally, you have to tell me before you try to hit on me.”

The guy let out a bark of a laugh and ran a hand through his ridiculously thick hair. “Wow. Fuck. Uh, for starters, I’m not in the NHL, I’m a friend of Bitty’s.” He leaned back in his chair and started ticking off the points on his fingers. “Two, I told you that even though I don’t think I’m legally required to, and I should know because I’m like, kind of almost about to be a lawyer?” He looked over and pinched his fingers together as Lardo struggled to keep on her straight face. “This close. And third, I wasn't really hitting on you.” He was holding like, a crazy amount of eye contact. Lardo raised an eyebrow, and he smirked cartoonishly. "Yet."

Lardo smiled, rolled her eyes, and stuck out her hand. “You've made your point. I’m Larissa.”

He reached out and shook, his grip surprisingly firm. “So Larissa, would you believe me if I told you my name was Shitty?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Lardo snorted, and tried to take a sip of her drink to hide it before realizing again that it was, in fact, empty. She frowned and put the glass back on the table.

He covered his mouth and ran his fingers over his mustache. “Um, hockey nickname?” 

Lardo pointed a finger at Shitty. “I thought you said you don’t play hockey.”

He bit his lip. “I mean, technically I said I don’t play for the NHL. I did play in college with Bitty, though.”

“Ugh, you really are a fucking lawyer.” Lardo really could not stop smiling.

“ _ Almost _ a lawyer,” he corrected. “Anyway,  _ Larissa _ ," he exaggerated her name in a way that would normally bother her but seemed playful. "Let’s put the heat back on you for a second. You’re Jack’s best man, yah? What do you do when you’re not being that?”

“I’m an artist." It was kind of exciting getting used to saying that without a question mark at the end. "I mostly do commission work for businesses and shit around town, but I’ve gotten into a couple galleries now? So that’s pretty cool.” Lardo ran her fingers through her hair, and made a mental note to schedule a haircut soon.

“That’s awesome! What do you paint?” Shitty scooted his chair a little closer, and Lardo forgot about her hair and realized his eyes were like, really green. Not even hazel. Like,  _ green _ green. She hadn’t realized eyes actually came in that color outside of books. It almost made up for the, like, legit porn-stache.

“Um, whatever people want? Like last month, I just finished up this giant painting of a dong for some hipster company’s lobby.”

"No fucking way. That is too deliciously fucking ridiculous to exist in the same boring-ass world I live in." He waved his hands as he talked, just a little too close to the empty glass he had left on the edge of the table. 

"Says the man who calls himself Shitty." Lardo's hands were fluttering by her side and she folded them into her lap. She wished she had something to hold.

"Touché," Shitty bobbed his head, satisfied. "Say, now that I'm hydrated, you want to get back out on the dance floor? I think I saw Alexei Mashkov do the worm."

Lardo laughed at the idea of Tater trying to dance, but shook her head. "You have no idea how much that tempts me...but I can't." Shitty's face fell, and Lardo's heart twisted. The dude seriously looked like he killed her puppy. "I kind of don't have shoes?"

Now it was Shitty's turn to laugh and shake his head. "I'm sorry?"

"I wore heels to the ceremony, because while 5'1 is a  _ perfectly respectable height _ I had to go and be friends with a bunch of fucking giants. Normally, I just stash some socks in my purse, but I already had to remember the rings and I was already late for the photoshoot and…" Lardo trailed off and made a vague gesture with her hands. 

Shitty was nodding seriously, barely suppressing a smile. Lardo had the sudden uncontrollable urge to slap him, but she just sighed. "Anyway, what I'm  _ trying _ to say is, I can't dance but you can go get me a drink if you want?"

"Fuck yes." Shitty stood up so fast that Lardo had to grab his water glass from falling off the table. She smiled and watched as he ran a few steps to the bar, and then doubled back to lean down on the back of his chair, panting just a little. "What was that drink you said you wanted?"

Lardo laughed again. "I'm not picky. Surprise me."

Shitty stuck out a pointer finger. "Challenge accepted."


End file.
